Payback
by topazchild
Summary: The prince settles a debt. Oneshot sequel to "No Stone Unturned." Contains spoilers so please don't read unless you've already read that story.


**a/n: Oneshot sequel. This was written to tie up one of the unresolved plot lines from the previous story. Contains spoilers so please don't read unless you've already read "No Stone Unturned." :-) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Please read and review. Thanks. **

Payback

Derek slid his eyes over to meet Arthur's with a meaningful glance. Arthur sighed deeply. "He waited up, didn't he?"

"Yes, Sire." The guard opened the door for him.

'Waited up' may have been overstating the matter. Merlin sat slumped forward over the table, one arm folded under his head, fast asleep. The prince walked over and stood looking down, listening to him breathe and watching him sleep. He carded his fingers through the back of Merlin's dark hair and tugged lightly. "I killed for you tonight, little brother."

Earlier, before midnight

The woman heard the rider approaching long before she saw him. He was traveling at an easy lope, steady and unhurried, the hoof beats blending in with the sounds of the night.

"Mum?" the woman's son said, from where he lay beside the road. "Can I get up now, Mum?" He was fifteen, big for his age, simple-minded, forgetting uncomplicated instructions moments after being told.

"No!" his mother said urgently, in a lowered tone. "Someone is coming! Lie still and don't talk. Keep your eyes shut." She looked back down the road straining to see in the darkness. "Remember what I told you. _Keep your eyes shut! Lie still!" _

The rider that came into view was mounted on a powerful-looking black stallion and wore a large enveloping cloak with the hood pulled up. Some small part of the woman's brain registered that as peculiar. It was a warm night. For just a few seconds, she thought she saw a gleam of metal under the voluminous cloak from where it fell open at the front. Seemingly without conscious thought, the man's left hand grabbed at the edges of the material tugging it back together.

The woman had a fleeting moment of unease but quickly suppressed it. He was nearly upon them, leaving no time for second guessing herself. "Help us, please!" she cried. She ran out onto the road, her outstretched arms frantically waving. "My little boy has taken ill!"

The strange rider brought his horse to a halt and dismounted, dropping his horse's reins, wanting his sword arm free. He quickly scanned the area. Beyond the woman he could make out a figure lying beside the road. "What happened?"

"He's - he's been very ill - my little boy. I thought he was well enough to travel but - but he just collapsed." She inserted a few notes of hysteria in her delivery. The woman was so well-practiced that she knew just the tone to take.

His servant had described the unfolding scenario in such precise detail that the prince had a feeling of déjà vu despite never having been placed in this situation before. "Show me," he said.

"Come," she said. "Over here." She walked in the direction her son was lying but kept turning, looking back over her shoulder at the stranger in growing frustration. Why hadn't the man lowered the hood of his cloak? She peered intently but his face was in shadow, and she saw nothing of his features. She was gripped by a sudden feeling of foreboding that something was terribly wrong. It was with a sense of relief that she saw her husband emerge from the inky blackness of the surrounding forest and move up behind the stranger.

Arthur with his well-honed warrior instincts knew the instant the woman's husband moved from the deeper shadows and approached at his back. He steeled himself to remain still for a few seconds longer with every primal instinct he possessed screaming at him to spin around. The blonde raised his left arm milliseconds before the man's burly left arm encircled his chest and crushed the prince roughly against his torso. The man brought his right arm up with the cloth drenched in belladonna clutched in his fist, attempting to hold it against the prince's mouth and nose. Arthur, anticipating the move, brought his left hand down and across his body and seized the man's right wrist with an iron grip, savagely dragging the man's arm down. It would have been an easy matter to have brought up his right knee and broken the man's arm, but he stopped himself at the last second. He wanted the man to be able to fight him. He slammed his elbow into the man's ribcage and spun away in a half circle, hastily knocking his hood back and visually checking the man for weapons as he faced him. He had a knife but no sword. All right then. The prince would leave his own sword in its scabbard and use the dagger he carried at his waist. He could hear his men ride out of the darkness.

"Say nothing," the prince commanded them fiercely, without looking in their direction. "And stay clear."

The woman looked fearfully at the newly arrived men. The moonlight faintly illuminated the chain mail they wore. _Knights! How could things have gone so wrong so fast? _She ran toward where her son was standing looking confused and grabbed him by the arm. Two of the knights whirled their horses around and rode over to box her in and prevent her from escaping. The woman's son started blubbering. "Mum!" he cried, nearly incoherent. "Mum! What's happening?"

It took Arthur no time at all to assess the level of the man's fighting abilities. He was physically strong but untrained, his moves easily anticipated and blocked. The blonde gave him every opportunity, even stepping back and allowing the man to retrieve his dropped knife. At the same time Arthur hastily unclasped the cumbersome cloak that he wore and tossed it aside.

As the two of them fought in the darkness, the blonde warrior could sense his men's growing impatience, their horses moving restlessly beneath them. "Finish it," one of them muttered.

Moonlight danced and gleamed on Arthur's armor, picking up gold strands in his hair, rays of light illuminating the beauty of his features, and for the first time the woman saw him clearly. And in so doing, she recognized him. "It's the Pendragon prince," she called out to her husband. "The king's son."

Oddly, a sense of relief went through her husband at her words. He had long known himself to be outmatched, and he grasped at the straw that fate had dealt him. "Your highness," the man said, desperately. "I didn't know. I didn't recognize you. I wish to surrender to you."

"Percival. Elyan," the prince commanded. "Take the woman and her son away from here. Out of sight." He and the man broke apart from each other and stood waiting in silence, the man perspiring heavily and with growing apprehension.

"You mistake the matter," Arthur said, finally. A tiger could not have looked more deadly. "I am not here on kingdom business. This is personal."

"What?" the man stammered. "I don't understand. I can't surrender?"

"You took my servant." Pause. "Do you even remember? He was riding a buckskin."

"I'll - I'll help you get him back."

"I've got him back," Arthur said, through his teeth. "He had been shackled and beaten and nearly killed. You will finish this with me- here -now, or I will kill you where you stand."

Later, in the prince's chambers

Merlin sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He stood hastily when he saw the blood on the chain mail. "Arthur! You're hurt! Let me get you to Gaius."

The prince waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "None of it's mine. Help me out of this then go to bed."

"Where have you been? Why did you leave me behind?" Merlin started assisting the prince.

"Not now, Merlin. I'm tired."

"If this isn't your blood, Arthur, then whose is it?" the young man persisted, pressing his luck.

Arthur was exhausted and in no mood. "I'm the prince, and I'm not answerable to the likes of you. Besides, I own you," the prince concluded, nastily. "I paid for you in gold."

That was sufficient to shut the dark-haired man up. Merlin finished removing the armor in stony silence then fumbled with the strings of the padded tunic he wore beneath. The prince watched him as he worked, but Merlin refused to meet his eyes.

A few moments later, the blonde was dressed for his bed. "Will there be anything else, Sire?" Merlin asked in a coldly formal manner.

The prince sighed. "Yes, Merlin. Sit down." He waited until he did so. "The man who ambushed you is dead. I killed him." There was a stunned look in Merlin's blue eyes. "The woman sits in a cell awaiting my father's judgment. Their son will be released to relatives when/if any can be located."

"And Sir Leon just let you do this? Something that dangerous?" Merlin asked in disbelief. "And your father was okay with this?"

"My father doesn't know. And Sir Leon is answerable to me. Not the other way around," Arthur replied haughtily. "He obeys my orders."

"Not when doing so puts your life in danger, Arthur. He would not have agreed."

"He did protest," Arthur conceded darkly, still irked. "But I pointed out - rightly - that the man and his wife wanted me unconscious - not dead. And in the _extremely_ unlikely event they succeeded, Sir Leon and the knights had standing orders to swoop down and rescue me." He laughed grimly at the ridiculous notion that it would ever have come to that.

"But they _did_ kill someone, Arthur. Almost certainly. The man whose body was left lying in the road. You know that."

"I'm not discussing this any further. I'm alive. You're safe. There's nothing more to say. Go to bed."

Merlin hesitated. He wanted to make one thing very clear. "I'll be your friend, Arthur, and I'm happy to be your servant. But I will not be your slave."

"I wasn't being serious. Goodnight. And _do not _wake me before noon."

The End


End file.
